


Sky'd be falling while I hold you tight

by DropsOfAutumn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Kitchen Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, There's no S8, Tiny bit of Angst, alcohol consumption, but no one is drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAutumn/pseuds/DropsOfAutumn
Summary: It’s Keith’s mere presence that has Shiro exhale for the first time in hours. “Come to save me?”And Keith bends closer into his space, smiling at him, just like /that/, so young and careless and way, way too self-assured. Way too lovely.“You know me too well.” If Keith is blushing, he hides it behind his glass just fine. He shrugs, casually, before adding, “You would do the same for me.”**Or: The one in which Keith saves Shiro again.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 153





	Sky'd be falling while I hold you tight

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short twitter thread/ pwp because I've been listening to "If The world was ending" over and over again and it made me write about sex on a kitchen counter. Well.  
> Please listen to this version of the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rIBMfL66Gnc) if you feel like getting into the angsty mood the story kicks off with. (YouTube Link)
> 
> Not beta-ed. Hope you like it anyway.

As always, it’s Keith who finds him sitting at the counter, nursing his second drink that night, in the rundown bar close to the Garrison that Shiro had come to call his second home after the war was over and his friends were shattered over the universe. 

When his goddamn dream of becoming Admiral had turned out to be the source of sleepless nights in an empty bed. 

As always, it’s Keith who sits down next to him, no question asked, shoulders bumping against Shiro.

Ethereal Keith, in his Senior Blade’s uniform and his hair in a braid, his eyes piercing and looking right into his soul. His laugh clear and golden, beautiful as ever. 

And Shiro is way past denying how deep he had fallen.

The bag against Keith barstool tells him enough – Keith’s just landed, beelining for the bar. For him.

It’s Keith’s mere presence that has Shiro exhale for the first time in hours. “Come to save me?”

And Keith bends closer into his space, smiling at him, just like _that_ , so young and careless and way, way too self-assured. Way too lovely.

“You know me too well.” If Keith is blushing, he hides it behind his glass just fine. He shrugs, casually, before adding, “You would do the same for me.”

It must be the alcohol in his blood making Shiro lower his lashes and whisper into the space between them. “Sure you say that to all the boys.” 

Must be the alcohol making his cheeks feel hot, when Keith whispers “Only you,” against the rim of his glass. 

And it is all it takes for Shiro to lose it.   
  
*

He does not remember how they make it home that night, does not remember how they get rid of layers of fabric between them. 

What he does remember, though, is Keith’s hot breath against his lips, his hot skin under Shiro’s fingertips. How kissing Keith is all he ever wished for and more, so much more, when both of them are giddy and eager, when the first kiss shared in Shiro’s quarters leaves no questions about where this is going. 

Shiro still remembers how warm his hand under the fabric of Keith’s uniform felt, how at home, before it sneaks under the of Keith’s pants, squeezing the soft skin of Keith’s ass – before the pull of Keith’s teeth against his bottom lip disappears and Keith’s goes down to both knees, taking Shiro’s pants with him.   
  
An obscene moan leaves him when he feels Keith’s lips on his cock, Keith’s tongue circling around his head before his mouth wraps around his dick. Warm and wet, making Shiro see stars and nearly lose his balance as he tries to bite into his knuckles, keeping him from being too loud. 

It doesn't work.

Not when Keith looks up to him, right through these goddamn long lashes of him, so damn pleased with himself from the way Shiro’s cock disappears between his lips. It’s all Shiro can do not do get weak in his knees. But it’s hard, so hard when Keith starts to moan, his mouth full and filthy, the sound of it vibrating against Shiro’s skin. 

Before his knees could betray him, Shiro’s prosthesis finds some support against the door. He uses his other hand to delve into the soft strands of Keith’s hair, his grip tightening when his actions earn him another deep moan from Keith. 

Keith is swift, dedicated, his long and thin fingers drawing circles where they are pressed against the flesh of Shiro’s tights, where his thumbs just barely graze against Shiro’s balls, enough to make him go crazy.

As embarrassing as it is to admit, Shiro knows full well he would not last long, not with Keith’s hot tongue slipping over his dick like <i>that</i>. 

Shiro’s not drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol when his next action stops Keith in his tracks, pulling him up and sliding his tongue into Keith’s mouth in the same motion. Shiro shifts his weight, slightly bending into Keith, and Keith understands - stumbling backwards, willingly, eyes closed and his hands curling into Shiro’s hair and biceps. 

Shiro doesn’t know how he manages to get rid of his shoes and pants on their way, but he does remember Keith’s breathing his name against the lobe of his ear, when Keith bumps against the kitchen counter. “Shiro, please.” His words rushed, heated, just what Shiro needs to curl his hands into Keith’s thighs and lift him up and onto the counter, sending a cutting board flying to the floor in the process. 

The sound is enough to make them both stop for a second. 

“Oh.” Keith’s eyes are the most beautiful thing when they look up to him, his cheeks red and lovely, his lips swollen from their kisses.

“Oh?” Shiro whispers, panic rushing through him. Are they too fast? To eager? 

But there’s no need to panic, Shiro finds a second later, as he feels Keith’s fingers against his neck, drawing him in. Just enough for Keith’s teeth to brush against his ear when he whispers the next words. 

“Fuck me.” 

A deep groan leaves Shiro’s lips. 

How could he deny that wish?

From there on, Shiro’s memories are hazy. 

He still does not know where Keith’s pants went, or even his undershirt. Or where Keith found lube that easily.

  
What Shiro does know however is how Keith’s fingers, delving against his neck, his hair, his shoulder blades, feel, how they draw Shiro closer when Shiro’s hand ghosts over Keith’s hard cock between them.

How Keith’s lips against his throat feel where they leave desperate kisses, where teeth nib against his skin, sure to leave bruises, when Shiro’s finger enters him.

How Keith’s voice sounds, deep and hot, cursing his name into their kiss as Shiro adds a second finger and fastens his pace. 

How Keith’s legs curl around his ass when Shiro slides into him in one swift motion. 

And how Shiro’s name on Keith’s lips is the most beautiful sound as they both find their rhythm. 

It’s good, it’s great, amazing enough to feel Keith’s warm heat around him, his walls squeezing just right, and the sounds Shiro manages lure to out of him with every thrust. 

With one hand, Shiro tries to steady Keith where he is sitting on the counter, while his other tries to find some leverage against the kitchen hanging cupboard. It’s not optimal, not at all. Keith does not seem to mind, his eyes clouded and his face red when Shiro draws back from their kiss, pressing their foreheads together.

“Why’d you stop?” Under the layer of lust, Keith’s words sound angry. He does not get an answer, though, at least not in words, when Shiro slides out and circles his arms around Keith’s waist - so slim and firm that Shiro has to groan – before spinning him around.

Bless the kitchen island, because Keith looks just ethereal when he bends over it, his black braid hanging over the pristine skin. He turns to say something, but his words get lost in a moan when Shiro thrusts into him again. 

The way Keith’s fingers curl into the countertop is enough to tell him he hit just right, so he does it again, fast, Keith’s name spilling from his lips as his fingers delve into Keith’s hips, drawing him closer with every breath. 

Keith drives him crazy with the way he bends his back just right. With the curses leaving his lips, moaned words, phrases that make Shiro insanely proud and fasten his speed. “Faster,” Keith mumbles as Shiro’s hand find Keith’s braid and tugs.

“Shit, Shiro,” Keith moans as Shiro’s other hand finds his cock and wraps around it, jerking upwards with every thrust. 

“Shiro, please,” Keith yells every time Shiro hits just right. 

And “Shiro,” Keith screams before he spills warm in Shiro’s hands. 

It’s enough to make Shiro topple over the edge as well, just three deep after Keith, as he comes with Keith’s name on his lips. 

And it’s hard not to leave the softest kisses on Keith’s scarred back when they both are trying to catch their breath afterwards.

*

When Shiro slides into Keith for a second time, bright moonlight illumination the space where their hands are linked on their soft sheets. That second time, Shiro goes soft, slow, earning the tiniest whimpers from Keith as he presses their forehead together, every thrust precious, well-placed. His hand that does not press against Keith’s fingers is cupping Keith’s face, his thumb grazing Keith’s jaw as he looks Keith in the eyes.

And it’s after everything, when they find each other tangled in sheets, that Shiro’s fingers draw shapes against Keith’s skin where the moonlight tints him in shades of blue.   
  
Shiro’s hand finds soft strands of Keith’s hair were they are spilled on the white sheets like ink. He lifts them to his lips, whispering against them. “Thanks for saving me. Again.”

Keith’s eyes are blown wide and his voice is soft and broken when he says those three words like the most natural thing, now a whisper against Shiro’s lips.

  
And all Shiro can do is whisper those three words back.  
  


**

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I'll try my best to reply to comments and would love to hear what you think!
> 
> I'm a rambling mess on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/dropsofautumn) so follow me if you like ♡


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